Gathered Brethren

Thursday, August 30, 2012

It was a quarter to three in the morning, and although most of the effects of Bishop Quinine’s new herbal tea had worn off, I was still unable to sleep. Unwilling to succumb to the temptation to once again visit the weird side of YouTube (videos of abscess drainage and impacted ear-wax removal have their charms, but even a man of my relentless curiosity has limits), I decided to instead drop by Facebook and see what’s been happening in the lives of My Beloved Sinners around this disgraceful and wicked planet.

No sooner had Mr. Gates’ dear old browser loaded the familiar white-on-blue “f” than my wise and saintly eyes were confronted caught by a couple of notifications concerning developments in Mordor. Having already decided to pass on YouTube’s less palatable delicacies, I was quite naturally unsure if my constitution was up to the latest news from the Diocese that time (not to mention the Holy Spirit, compassion, grace, and legislation against inbreeding) forgot. Yet like what may have once happened to me when watching those clips an interesting New Delhi medico posts of himself extracting blackheads (Google it if you must disbelieve me, but not even I can bring myself to include a link*), once I’d started clicking it was impossible to turn back.

That’s because, Beloved Evildoers, having converted every Antipodean man, woman, child, and marsupial, not to mention having rewarded every last relative capable of saying the word “Bible” with lucrative employment at his parishioners’ expense, little Archbishop Jensen has now turned his attention to correcting the mistakes made by Cranmer and whoever else was responsible for the foundations of today’s Anglican wedding liturgy (St. Paul? Jesus? Bobby Duncan?). Whereas our foolish forbears neglected to emphasis strongly enough that a Biblical Christian man’s most precious belonging is his wife, marriage Jensen-style will from now on put an end to the confusion by requiring the person-without-a-penis to solemnly vow that they will henceforth submit to their god-given owner.

Not, of course, that this is anyway to be taken as giving licence for the man to abuse or otherwise disrespect his treasured new chattel. Quite the contrary, as little Peter Jensen subsequently made clear in a piece so profound in its logic that I know of three used-car sales managers and a mid-level Amway marketer all now clamouring for him address training seminars on the subject of “Intellectual Honesty: Overrated or just Unnecessary”, the real burden of responsibility created by this exciting liturgical innovation falls upon the man. That’s because, according to the Bishop of Biblical Discernment who just happened to lose $160 million of his faithfuls’ hard-earned, along with the authority, power, and right to make the final call with regards to what’s for dinner and on T.V. afforded by the wife’s promise to submit comes the obligation for the husband to sacrifice himself for her in the same way that Jesus sacrificed Himself for the church.

Forget liberal notions of two people being drawn together to share the vagaries of life as one: this is indeed a bold call for young Anglican Conservatives to enter into a binding agreement in which one party clearly has the upper hand, whilst the other must dutifully assume whatever position is required of them. As such it clearly mirrors the sacred values enshrined in any Florida time-share contract, or something Everhome/Fannie Mae try getting away with. And please let’s not have any nonsense about marriage being a rewarding and mutually empowering relationship: the definitive marital role model for today’s husband must involve indescribable agony, during the course of which he should feel compelled call out “My God, my God – Why have you forsaken me?” (The woman, on the other hand, should remain silent. Later, when they’re in private – and preferably when there are no sticks or sharp objects nearby – she can submissively ask her husband to explain what was distressing him. Who is in turn perfectly free to let her wait until the next world for an answer.)

Honestly: if the godless Episcopalian and Church of England leaders would only display this kind of witness then they too might be able to boast of evangelism campaigns that brought a reduction in congregation sizes whilst simultaneously lining the pockets of a company owned by members of the Archbishop’s family. They too might reap the rewards of seeing the Gospel be made a byword for oppression and misogyny. And they too might experience what it feels like to know Christians around the world are shaking their heads and saying “Next time I think I’ll stick with weird side of YouTube.”

Thursday, August 23, 2012

As every one of the millions of sinners blessed by My Ministry will testify, I am a patient man, and it takes a great deal to make me angry. Little things which could quite justifiably incite homicidal responses in Bible Believers less self-controlled than myself – such as a woman speaking aloud in Church, or an evolutionist being permitted to attend college –generally provoke in me a more measured reaction. Quite naturally I’ll still be the first to stand up for the truth that such blasphemies can only be atoned for by the shedding of blood (namely that of the perpetrator and their immediate family), but all these years as the World’s Leading Doctrinal Warrior have taught me the importance of timing. Sometimes it’s best to contain one’s anger, and faithfully wait upon the spirit for guidance as to the appropriate moment to vent one’s righteous rage. (And, by the way, it’s truly remarkable how often that moment coincides with a time when nobody’s looking…)

Even so, I’m not going to make any secret of my fury with the godless liberal media currently hounding Missouri congressman and would-be senator Todd Akin for simply stating what any Conservative Preacher knows is true: that the bodies of that half of the population without the kind of genitalia necessary for Church Leadership are capable of all sorts of mysterious things, including that “If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.”. Although I’ve got to admit that’s one particular biological fact I’ve not before encountered during the course of my dilligent socio-scriptural internet research – I dare say that in Missouri young people’s fellowship talks on boy-girl relations must be a little more explicit than they are here in Ichabod Springs.

Indeed, so widespread has been the attack upon Congressman Akin that even Biblically Christian media like CNN and Fox “News” have been making mountains out of what scarcely qualifies as a molehill. As far as I’m concerned little Tod’s only mistake was that of letting the kind of thing quite commonly said within the corridors of Conservative ecclesiastic power be heard in a domain where people unafraid of thinking for themselves could grab it and run. Which is exactly what the Bible talks about when it cautions against casting one’s swine before pearls. Or something like that.

One humorous thing to come out of all this, however, (or at least it would be humorous were I as a Leading Conservative capable of laughing – as anyone who’s ever read little David Virtue’s “satire” pages will have realized, mirth isn’t an emotion greatly prized in my corner of Christendom) the jeers currently echoing from the mouths of apostates around the world actually reveal how little they truly know. Take, for example, the email I keep receiving which asks “Can the Tea Party really get any dumber than this?” As someone who’s been intimately associated (in a strictly Biblical sense, of course) with a great many Tea Party luminaries I can personally assure every siongle one of the mocking liberals that they really haven’t seen anything yet. After all: let’s not forget how many Tea Partygoers were home schooled – need I say any more?

Nevertheless, there is just one small correction I’d like to make to Congressman Akin’s quintessentially modern-Republican assertion: the poor man appears a little challenged with regard to his theo-linguistic accuracy. In Conservative Theological terms what he calls “legitimate rape” is more accurately termed ”a Deuteronomic Marriage Proposal”. As anyone who’s ever read the work of Bruce Ware and his cohorts at The Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood will know, “legitimate rape” is actually just another way referring to Complementarian Marriage.

I’m Father Christian and I teach the Bible.

P.S. While we’re speaking of Complementarians I’d like to reassure the troubled individual who’s been sending delightfully misspelt warnings concerning my post on the lovely David Ould that he’s completely misunderstood me: I’ve always maintained the Church needs more serial liars in pulpits, and it grieves me deeply that the dishonest little Anglo-Austrian-Australian appears to have still not found a parish willing to subject itself to the unique perspectives on integrity and truth which Our Favorite Deacon has to offer.

Further to which, I’d like to thank the Beloved Sinner from Mordor who sent the very funny account of Dobby unwittingly making a life-long enemy of someone highly influential in that part of the world who just happens to be called “Jensen”. You’re quite right: it is too libellous to be posted here, but thank you for making the halls of St. Onuphrius’ echo with laughter. It does indeed explain a great deal concerning the boy’s current predicament.

Thank you also to the other Beloved Sinner who drew this post to my attention. Titled ”Lying Bastard”, I’ll admit it falls short of really outlining the qualities David Ould can offer a potential employer, but it nonetheless offers a good summary of why I have no qualms about paying so much attention to the testosteronically litigious Deacon from Down-Under. If he didn’t exist I’d have had to make him up.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Honestly, My Beloved Sinners, is there any other event in Biblical Christianity’s calendar as inspiring as the Olympic Games? The nationalism, the steroid stimulated loins clad in lycra, and more corrupt old men flying first class than a conference of Conservative Bishops – the Olympics truly are a foretaste of what the world will be like when Jesus finally gets around to coming back and tossing (lovingly, of course) everyone who doesn’t agree with my theology into the Lake of Fire.

Mind you, as an Olympic Gold Medallist myself (Live Pigeon Shooting – Paris 1900) I quite naturally have a special interest in The Olympic Movement, and the following picture of me raising my right in celebration of fascism’s only military victory with the definitive Olympic junketer, His Excellency Juan Antonio Samaranch, will always occupy a place of pride on the St. Onuphrius’ sanctuary wall. (I’m obviously the extraordinarily handsome clergyman in dark glasses on the far right – as a symbolic testimony to the purity of both my own and Olympic ideals I’m wearing a white clerical shirt instead of my more customary shade of practical duck-egg blue.)

Sadly, however, fewer and fewer of today’s athletes share my unequalled respect for Sacred Olympic values. Not only do the modern games permit women competitors, but in a sharp and tragic contrast to the Bible-believing days of Ancient Greece, contestants no longer participate nude. And I have it on good authority that being of a homosexualist persuasion – something unheard of in ancient Athens - is these days no bar to entry.

Nor should anyone get me started on the scourge of drugs. I attribute the demise of my own sport to this menace: blasting a pigeon into the hereafter is hardly a challenge when the little beasts are too stoned to fly – even if the resultant mess is nonetheless quite satisfying for someone who takes the Old Testament as literally as I do. That’s why I was so glad to see the opening ceremony’s musical directors were those two young men from Underworld, whose extensive involvement with the famously anti-drug dance/rave culture sends exactly the right message vis-à-vis substance abuse in sport.

Indeed: I’d be in London enjoying the Olympic Spirit myself were it not for the fact that I’m currently right in the middle of fighting to terminate a liberal subterfuge which has the potential to utterly destroy Conservative Christianity. Codenamed “Project Stop-Whining”, I’m not prepared to divulge many of the details here given that I have good reason to believe my homilies are frequently read aloud to not just those who are the product of Evangelical home-schooling, but also to women, so for now let me just say that it involves working in one’s parish with the same dedication and diligence as is expected of anyone in secular employment – a hideously radical notion which could not only render the Anglican Communion Institute completely irrelevant (presuming it isn’t already so), but could even lead to a world in which religious experts like David Ould were obliged to do something morre with their time than obsessively seeking to track down those who dare to laugh at them for being nasty dishonest pharisees.

Nevertheless, I’m proud to say St. Onuphrius’ has not been without representation at this Sacred Biblical Convocation. This past month our own Bishop Quinine has been personally assisting the Chinese team. While he’s had to be a bit secretive about the precise nature of his involvement (Olympic Protocol and all that), I do know he’s been working particularly closely with their swimmers, weight-lifters, and female shot putters (is there any sport as glamorous as shot putting?), and I’m absolutely certain he’s been providing them with the sort of spiritual inspiration that only a faux-bishop can deliver when appropriately remunerated. Nor has he been confining his Ministry to the Chinese: with the Jensenists too broke to provide pastoral care for any fellow Australians not a member of their immediate family Bishop Quinine has been called upon to also provide them with pastoral support – as anyone who read this news report will have immediately recognized.

Which is in itself just one small example of the much broader blessing of Peace and Global Understanding that the Sacred Olympic Movement has brought our depraved and sinful world. Looking through history one simply can’t deny the facts: just look at how an understanding of Olympic Ideals brought peace to Afghanistan, how encountering Olympic tolerance taught China the importance of Tibetan independence, and how that poster of Mark Spitz cured a generation of young men of homosexualist yearnings.